


How to Seduce a Dresden

by Burningchaos



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: First Time, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-02
Updated: 2010-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-08 15:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burningchaos/pseuds/Burningchaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A funny heat driven fic that really wanted to be a pwp, but isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Seduce a Dresden

  
Chicago was in the middle of a heat wave, and oddly enough an ordinary one, verse the several magically induced ones over the last few years. He'd checked; at the request of no less then twenty odd people.

Harry had felt bad about taking the money, not that he took it from his friends, but after the first five or so clients had said 'I don't care if you already looked, look again,' he'd taken happily the money. His bank account was grateful, so was Bob for that matter, Harry had just bought him six of the newest trashiest 'romance' novels on the market.

The room was suddenly filled with bright, blinding sunlight and since the wards didn't go off Harry assumed the person either had a 'key' or was powerful enough to put him out of his misery. Or at least he hoped so because the spots he was currently entertaining in lieu of vision combined with his current heat issues did not a fair fight make.

"Empty Night, Harry, it's not even cool in here." Ah, the dulcet tones of his beloved brother's voice. "You'd think it would be, being a windowless basement."

"Go home, Thomas. " Harry groaned barely lifting his head from where it was currently melting into the fabric of the couch. "Also shut the Damn door." He winced as he heard the little part of Michael that lived in his brain berate him for swearing.

Thomas stopped abruptly, shut the door and plunged the room back into semi-darkness, "Harry, did you know you're naked?"

"No, I was completely unaware of the fact. Molly isn't coming over today, in fact you weren't supposed to come over today either. I have no clean boxers or shorts and it is to hot to go to the laundry. If I didn't know better I would swear Titania was up to something. Plus, the brown out, so yes, I am naked."

Harry could feel the sweat that had pooled on his chest run down his side as he twisted to look at the soon-to-be pile of ash that was his brother. "If it offends your delicate sensibilities you could always, oh I don't know, Go Home!"

Thomas draped himself over a chair; there wasn't a single drop of sweat on the man. Of course he was also shirtless, but he looked as if it were a meager seventy out rather then a temperature rivaling the surface of the sun.

"Honestly, Harry, talk about hiding you light under a bushel. You know your surly personality is a perfectly acceptable deterrent, you don't have to dress like a Salvation Army reject to keep people away from that body." Thomas waved his hand back and forth as he spoke. "I am almost proud to have you as my 'boyfriend'."

Harry ignored the boyfriend comment, as usual. "Is there a reason you're here?" He didn't want to know, he didn't want to move, or get dressed or even think. If this was about his brother getting laid he was going to shoot him, or give him pimples; it would last longer and be more satisfying.

"I just thought I would honor you with my presence." Thomas smirked, "All though now that I am here, I am feeling decidedly unloved, and honored all at the same time." He squirmed. "It's delightfully twisted."

"Thomas," Harry glared at his brother, hard, "I'll honor you right into a hospital bed if you don't leave me alone. I am too hot to play these games and too irritated by your lack of"...Harry gamely attempted to lift himself up to his elbows for a better look. "Of sweat..."

"Why aren't you sweating?" He flopped back down on the cushion and flinched in disgust as it squished. Randomly, and for good measure added, "I hate you."

"No, you don't. You're just jealous." Thomas personified smug. His look, his tone, even his little toes were smug. Harry knew this because his brother was in the process of taking off his shoes to show him. Why was his brother taking off his shoes?

Something in the room shifted. It was subtle, like the gossamer wings of a butterfly brushing against your hand, but he felt it.

Harry made himself sit up. It was an effort, his hair was plastered to his head, and he could feel the beads of sweat on his forehead and shoulders. He was sure he smelled worse then Mouse, who was currently lying next to the ice box, where he would have been had he fit.

"Thomas?"

Questioning tone. Check.

"Harry."

Still smug, smiling, mostly naked brother. Check.

He watched his brother carefully, the way he flowed from one area of the very small room to the other, effortlessly. "What are you doing?"

A smirk.

Not good.

"I was thinking of a way to take your mind of the heat." His brother's voice was coy, deceptively innocent. Something neither of them had been in possession of in to long.

Thomas flicked at the buttons of his jeans one by one. Cool, smooth, pale skin that was begging to be licked. A wicked smile, smoldering grey eyes looked down at him through sooty eyelashes, white teeth grazing pink lips.

He couldn't breathe. Hells Bells, he couldn't think let alone worry and bitch about how hot it was. His brother was a genius, not that he would ever tell him that.

"Naaggaahhh..."

Thomas licked his lips; his subconscious hesitation was in complete contradiction to his earlier actions and it nearly killed Harry to think that Thomas would even imagine being rejected. "So you like my idea then?"

He nodded, held out his hand, and didn't even flinch as his voice cracked. "Yes."

The smile was back, more brilliant then ever, his gut twisted and turned and begged; while Thomas peeled off his jeans and climbed on his lap.

Before he stopped thinking at all; he noticed the hair at the nap of Thomas' neck was damp and couldn't help feeling a smug sense of satisfaction.


End file.
